


Better Leek Than Never

by Grimalkenkid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cooking Lessons, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Not Shippy, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reyes aims to fix that, in which McCree is a great shot but not so good with the life skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimalkenkid/pseuds/Grimalkenkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Deadlock Gang needed killers, not cooks. Reyes takes it upon himself to remedy that after Overwatch takes in McCree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Leek Than Never

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'm sorry for the pun-tastic title. I was having trouble thinking of something appropriate.  
> Second, Reyes acting as a father/big brother figure to McCree is one of my favorite headcanons.
> 
> (Cross-posted from tumblr.)

            It all started with some spaghetti. Jesse had gone to make dinner after that day’s training, and Gabriel was just dropping by the watchpoint’s kitchen to pick up the leftovers from his lunch. The Blackwatch commander made a point of minding his own business… until he heard the telltale sizzle of water hitting an active burner.

            Gabriel snapped around. Jesse was the only other person there, quickly standing to attention from where he’d been leaning against the counter. That wasn’t the older man’s primary concern, though. What drew his attention was the pot on the stove that was filled nearly to the brim with water. Water that was just starting to boil and go over the sides, taking some of the floating bits of broken spaghetti with it.

            “What the hell, McCree?!” the Blackwatch commander huffed, snatching the pot up with one hand as he turned the burner off with the other. “Are you trying to ruin the equipment? It’s bad enough when Ana’s brat messes with something; I don’t need you acting like an airhead, too.”

            Turning around to fix the cowboy wannabe with a disapproving glare, Gabriel saw his surprise morph immediately into rebellion. Jesse crossed his arms over his chest and snorted, “Well it’s not my fault this stuff doesn’t have any directions on it.” His tone was confrontational, but something in the way he glanced to the side seemed… off. Not that it mattered. Jesse was his pupil, not his son. It wasn’t his job to decipher every little thing he did.

            “That’s because everyone knows how to make pasta.” Gabriel sighed and dumped the excess water out into the sink. “There,” he said, turning back to the cowboy. “Now it won’t overflow…”

            The older man trailed off a bit. Jesse still held his defiant stance, but now he was obviously chewing on his bottom lip. A few months ago, Gabriel would’ve dismissed the action as a personal tic or habit. Weeks of working with the former gang kid had taught him what it actually meant. It was the same thing Jesse would do when he forgot a simple rule that everyone else took for granted, when someone caught him taking a nap in the break room, or when he got himself hurt doing something stupid. He was embarrassed.

            Gabriel turned his back to Jesse and put the pot back on the stovetop. “Did those bastards in the Deadlock Gang ever teach you anything besides how to shoot a gun?” They were both prideful men, even though the cowboy wasn’t even legally an adult, and so he wouldn’t force him to give an answer to his face.

            “… Didn’t need me to know,” Jesse replied after a short silence. Gabriel didn’t need to look to know that his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t blame him. The boy may have been an ace marksman and former outlaw, but as an average, functioning human being? Jesse still had a ways to go.

            “Leave it on medium-high for ten minutes. The strainer’s in the third cabinet to the left under the sink,” Gabriel sighed, turning the burner back on and starting to head towards the door. “Wear your street clothes tomorrow. You won’t be practicing your aim for this lesson.”

            “But… isn’t tomorrow your day off?”

            Gabriel didn’t bother answering that question.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

            The next morning found the two Blackwatch members driving through the winding streets of the nearest town. It was quiet except for the soft tunes of the radio station that happened to be on when Gabriel started the car up. Jesse wasn’t keen on speaking if his annoyed scowl was anything to go by, so it was a bit of a surprise when he finally sighed, “So where are we going anyway?”

            Gabriel’s lips twitched upwards for a fraction of a second before returning to his sullen, resting face. “Somewhere you desperately need to be acquainted with.”

            “And that would be?”

            This time the older man did crack a small smile. His pupil sounded so much like the teenager he actually was. It was a step up from the nearly soul-dead eyes and harsh growls he encountered when they’d first met during the sting operation. “You’ll see,” Gabriel snickered, forcing himself to pay attention to the road when he heard Jesse’s annoyed groan.

            The cowboy didn’t need to wait much longer, though, as they pulled into a parking lot next to a park where several canopies were set up. Gabriel kept snickering softly as they made their way towards said canopies, and Jesse’s look became more and more confused. The older man finally decided to tell him what they were doing as they came to the first canopy and could see the produce stands set up in the shade beneath.

            “First lesson,” Gabriel started. “Outdoor and farmer’s markets are always better than a grocery store. Get all your produce here if you can.”

            “Wait, what?” Jesse stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow so high it almost disappeared under the brim of his hat.

            The Blackwatch commander sighed and put his hand on the cowboy’s shoulder, pushing him along slightly. “You’re going to learn how to cook,” he stated, “and you’re going to learn how to cook well. I won’t have you getting sick from eating instant meals all the time.”

            “But… That has absolutely nothing to do with my job! I can take care of myself just fine.” Jesse crossed his arms and glared at his commander. Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. He looked like every other pouty teenager forced to go shopping. If he was being honest, it actually reminded him of himself, back when Jack would drag him along at ungodly hours in the morning to hang out while watching his parents’ stand. He learned more about selling corn than he ever wanted to know.

            “Well, you’re half right. This doesn’t have anything to do with your job. However, you really don’t know how to take care of yourself.” Jesse scoffed at the accusation, and the older man crossed his arms to mirror his. The annoyed teen thing was certainly better than dead-eyed and soulless, but it was starting to grate on his nerves. “You told me yourself that your former _friends_ never taught you anything. Cooking isn’t something you just ‘pick up’ on your own. Now, I’m going to teach you how to make something besides spaghetti, and you’re going to shut up and listen. Got it, cowboy?”

            Jesse visibly gulped, and the defiance faded from his eyes. He’d pushed back too much, and Gabriel was once again the demanding taskmaster who made him repeat the safety rules about the gun range until he could say them all in his sleep. The cowboy nodded once.

            “Good,” the older man stated tersely. “Now, we’re going to get potatoes, carrots, and beets. That should be easy enough for now.”

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

            The rest of the day went by quickly in that same fashion. Gabriel told his pupil what he needed to do and then stepped in with advice when he inevitably made a mistake. He eventually stepped up to watch over Jesse’s shoulder when they got to the actual cooking part. The right way to cut the vegetables, the order to put the ingredients in the pan, how often to stir it… Gabriel knew that he shouldn’t have expected much, but it shocked him nonetheless to see just how lacking his pupil’s cooking skills were. When the basic stir-fry came out just a little bit charred, it was still better than he expected.

            “Hm… not great, but it’s edible,” he said after taking a few bites of the finished product.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the short response and sighed. “It’s a good first attempt. I _burned_ my first one. Now eat up. It’s still better than that frozen slop you were planning to eat tonight. Might not be too long until you’re up for working with meat.”

            “Uh… yes, sir.” Jesse was silent as they finished the cooked veggies, just standing in the watchpoint’s kitchen. There would be leftovers, and Gabriel was thinking of leaving it out to see who would be brave enough to eat the kid’s first creation. But that would be later, since most of the agents were out at the moment. He was about to move on to cleaning up – another important lesson – when Jesse piped up again. “Thank you, sir.”

            The Blackwatch commander didn’t know exactly what his pupil was thanking him for, but he responded anyway. “You’re welcome, kid.”

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

            “What are you making?”

            Jesse glanced to his side to see Hana straining to look over his shoulder. He didn’t blame her; quite a few of the younger members looked surprised when the cowboy had volunteered to take over cooking duty that night. Maybe the Korean pilot thought he’d be making beans and coffee or something one would find in an old Western. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of doing just that to mess with everybody, but the chef-like pride Reyes had pounded into him just wouldn’t let him do it.

            “Nothing much. Just a stir-fry. Can’t really make much with what’s hanging out in the fridge.”

            “Well, it smells great. I’d bet it’ll be the best random mix stir-fry ever.”

            “Aw, thank ya kindly,” the cowboy grinned. Inside, though, he was resisting the urge to tell her that it definitely wouldn’t be the best. Because Reyes’s cooking was and always had been better. He was just some punk who hadn’t known the difference between a yam and a potato.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and critiques are greatly appreciated, especially since this is my first time writing McCree and pre-fall of Overwatch Reaper.


End file.
